(no subject)
Title: Maybe Not Just a Pet 2/?
Character/Pairing: Scud, Deacon Frost, mentioned OC unnamed vampires.
Word Count: 772
Rating: T
Warnings: Master/slave themes, mentions of minor gore and abuse.
Summary: Scud find himself opening his eyes to see a recognized face.
Notes: Now a series! Part 1.
He saved him.
That man from before with the icy eyes - Deacon Frost - saved him. Not that Scud could actually explain how since he just found himself coming around to consciousness moments prior.
He asked himself why as he sat on the vampire’s couch, keeping himself slumped and sitting on the edge as to not bloody the plush blue upholstery in fear of getting in trouble for it. Deacon was talking to someone over his headset, an angry tone to his voice. That alone was enough to strike fear in the familiar.
“You know what? Then fucking deliver them tomorrow!” Deacon shouted before shaking his head, ripping the headset off swiftly and tossing it on the small glass coffee table. He sat himself caddy corner to Scud in an armchair and there was a calmness to his tone as he said, “Welcome back.”
Scud was so used to not talking unless asked a question that he simply glanced up. Deacon’s eyes were raking over him once, twice, and then a third time before Scud was reminding himself how this guy snapped when he didn’t speak before in the nightclub. “Welcome…back?”
A scoff and Deacon shook his head, pulling a cigarette from a box that was on the table. He put it to his lips as he lit it and explained to Scud what he meant. “Me and your master. We had a bit of a…falling out, you could say. Two of his buddies were drinking from the cuts on your arms when you passed out.” He took a drag of the cigarette, the smoke curling around him and into the room. “That classifies as abuse to a familiar in my book, so I brought you here and had a guy take a look.”
An expression of confusion crossed his face and Scud realized that his arms were sore. Looking down at them though, he found them to be wrapped up in gauze securely. There was still a hint of dry blood on his arms he noted, as well. “I… Thank you.” In all honesty, this vampire was right back to confusing and blowing his mind all at once. He probably should have let him die, bleed out right there in his master’s basement to forever stain the floors in velvety red. He raised his eyes back to Deacon and tried a smile as he watched the cigarette slowly burn down from afar.
“They always treat you like dirt?”
“…Yes,” Scud answered quietly. He could name all the ways they were horrible to him, but remembering those things wasn’t something he wanted to do. Really, all he wanted to do was thank this man. Somehow.
“Well, you don’t gotta worry about it anymore. You’ll be my familiar. And that shit doesn’t fly with me.” Scud was about to open his mouth, explain how it didn’t matter because all he was to a vampire - any human - was just a walking meal. “Plus, the extra help around here’d nice. These other fucking wannabes don’t do anything right.”
So maybe his couple years of following orders like a dog weren’t all for nothing. They were going to keep him alive a little longer. Or at least until Deacon got tired of him and just killed him, Scud assumed. So he just nodded, going along with this because at least he’d have something that wasn’t his previous master. Hadn’t he always said anyone but him? “Okay. Whatever you want,” Scud stated.
“First I want you to wash up. You fucking reek like his basement and blood. Just don’t ruin those bandages because they can’t come off. Everything you need’s in there.”
He watched as Deacon’s eyes shut and he took a final drag of the cigarette before leaving the butt in the ashtray on the table, only to rise to his feet and look expectantly at Scud. Scud immediately stood, finding himself aching and maybe a little woozier than he thought he was. But that didn’t stop him when Deacon led him to the bathroom, the vampire only sticking around long enough to observe that Scud sat on the edge of the tub without falling over.
Once alone, Scud ran fingers over the bandages on his forearms. He shivered. He couldn’t remember passing out or anything before that but he did remember them sniffing him, licking at his arms as they decided what they wanted to do with him. Eyes shut and he carefully pushed his hair away from his face while taking in a long, shaken breath. “You’ll get through this,” he told himself quietly. “Just shut it all out and no one can break you…”
Character/Pairing: Scud, Deacon Frost, mentioned OC unnamed vampires.
Word Count: 772
Rating: T
Warnings: Master/slave themes, mentions of minor gore and abuse.
Summary: Scud find himself opening his eyes to see a recognized face.
Notes: Now a series! Part 1.
He saved him.
That man from before with the icy eyes - Deacon Frost - saved him. Not that Scud could actually explain how since he just found himself coming around to consciousness moments prior.
He asked himself why as he sat on the vampire’s couch, keeping himself slumped and sitting on the edge as to not bloody the plush blue upholstery in fear of getting in trouble for it. Deacon was talking to someone over his headset, an angry tone to his voice. That alone was enough to strike fear in the familiar.
“You know what? Then fucking deliver them tomorrow!” Deacon shouted before shaking his head, ripping the headset off swiftly and tossing it on the small glass coffee table. He sat himself caddy corner to Scud in an armchair and there was a calmness to his tone as he said, “Welcome back.”
Scud was so used to not talking unless asked a question that he simply glanced up. Deacon’s eyes were raking over him once, twice, and then a third time before Scud was reminding himself how this guy snapped when he didn’t speak before in the nightclub. “Welcome…back?”
A scoff and Deacon shook his head, pulling a cigarette from a box that was on the table. He put it to his lips as he lit it and explained to Scud what he meant. “Me and your master. We had a bit of a…falling out, you could say. Two of his buddies were drinking from the cuts on your arms when you passed out.” He took a drag of the cigarette, the smoke curling around him and into the room. “That classifies as abuse to a familiar in my book, so I brought you here and had a guy take a look.”
An expression of confusion crossed his face and Scud realized that his arms were sore. Looking down at them though, he found them to be wrapped up in gauze securely. There was still a hint of dry blood on his arms he noted, as well. “I… Thank you.” In all honesty, this vampire was right back to confusing and blowing his mind all at once. He probably should have let him die, bleed out right there in his master’s basement to forever stain the floors in velvety red. He raised his eyes back to Deacon and tried a smile as he watched the cigarette slowly burn down from afar.
“They always treat you like dirt?”
“…Yes,” Scud answered quietly. He could name all the ways they were horrible to him, but remembering those things wasn’t something he wanted to do. Really, all he wanted to do was thank this man. Somehow.
“Well, you don’t gotta worry about it anymore. You’ll be my familiar. And that shit doesn’t fly with me.” Scud was about to open his mouth, explain how it didn’t matter because all he was to a vampire - any human - was just a walking meal. “Plus, the extra help around here’d nice. These other fucking wannabes don’t do anything right.”
So maybe his couple years of following orders like a dog weren’t all for nothing. They were going to keep him alive a little longer. Or at least until Deacon got tired of him and just killed him, Scud assumed. So he just nodded, going along with this because at least he’d have something that wasn’t his previous master. Hadn’t he always said anyone but him? “Okay. Whatever you want,” Scud stated.
“First I want you to wash up. You fucking reek like his basement and blood. Just don’t ruin those bandages because they can’t come off. Everything you need’s in there.”
He watched as Deacon’s eyes shut and he took a final drag of the cigarette before leaving the butt in the ashtray on the table, only to rise to his feet and look expectantly at Scud. Scud immediately stood, finding himself aching and maybe a little woozier than he thought he was. But that didn’t stop him when Deacon led him to the bathroom, the vampire only sticking around long enough to observe that Scud sat on the edge of the tub without falling over.
Once alone, Scud ran fingers over the bandages on his forearms. He shivered. He couldn’t remember passing out or anything before that but he did remember them sniffing him, licking at his arms as they decided what they wanted to do with him. Eyes shut and he carefully pushed his hair away from his face while taking in a long, shaken breath. “You’ll get through this,” he told himself quietly. “Just shut it all out and no one can break you…”